


Simon, Simon

by drarryangels



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Baz pov, Baz worrying, Baz worrying about Simon, Hallucinating, Implication of Violence, Love, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Missing Simon, No Spoilers In The Tags!, No direct violence, One Shot, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon is depicted after he's been through violence, SnowBaz, Worry, carry on, depictions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: Baz doesn't know how long Simon's been gone, how long it's been since he's seen him. It could have been yesterday, or it could have been nearly a year ago at Watford. He doesn't remember. All he knows is he was supposed to see Simon hours ago, and Simon is nowhere to be seen. No calls, no texts, no word from him at all.





	Simon, Simon

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Baz was worried. Seriously worried. He was sitting on the couch of Penny’s and Simon’s flat, and it was dead silent. Penny’s and Simon’s flat was never silent, but now Baz could hear the lightbulb in the next room humming it was so quiet now. It was wrong. All wrong. 

The world felt a little fuzzy. A little out of focus. 

When Baz had first arrived at the silent apartment, he had been annoyed that Simon was late, as they were supposed to go out that night. It seemed so out of character for Simon to show up half an hour late. To show up late at all. And even if he was late, Simon always told Baz if he was held up somewhere.

Wrong, all wrong.

Baz had texted Simon over and over again, and there had been no response. Simon usually responded to Baz’s texts instantly, and if he didn’t respond right away, he would call Baz as soon as he had a second to spare.

Baz put on a show about how annoying it was when Simon did that. But there was something inherently comforting in picking up the phone to hear Simon’s voice, usually breathless from whatever project he was in the middle of, saying _“Baz? Is everything okay?”_ Baz would roll his eyes even though Simon couldn't see him, but he would smile at the phone all the same. _“l’m okay, Simon. I’m okay.”_ Simon would always sigh, as if in relief before he would respond to whatever Baz had texted him about. 

Three hours had passed since Simon and Baz were supposed to go out to the cinemas, and Simon hadn’t texted him or called him back, and his flat was dead silent. Unnaturally silent. 

Baz’s knee jumped and tapped as he sat on the couch. Lost. He felt so lost.

He had already tried tracking spells on both Simon and Penelope to no avail. He had texted them both, but even Penny hadn’t responded. Tracking spells were never strong though. Baz had sent a **little birdy** spell to Simon reluctantly. The birds always annoyed Simon to no end, usually because Baz was always in ear shot when he sent them.

Several of Simon's Normal books were scattered on the coffee table, open to pages of tight packed words and exaggerated comic characters. A half empty mug of tea sat on the kitchen counter, another sign of Simon’s presence. Baz’s hoodie was thrown over a chair; Simon had taken it home with him several weeks ago. Simon was everywhere. The only thing missing was Simon himself.

Four hours.

Baz pulled out his phone and looked down at it as if it would suddenly come to life and calm the churning in his stomach. Where was Simon?

He knew Simon’s number by heart, so he didn’t need to check his contact when he dialed the number. His phone rang and rang, and no one picked it up.

Baz put his head in his hands, trying to think. His chest tightened painfully and Baz closed his eyes, trying to block out the panic. Baz had always been flawless at holding the mask he had copied from his father, but not when it came to Simon. Nothing was ever the same when it came to Simon.

Almost five hours.

Simon, Simon. Baz had seen him just yesterday, hadn't he? Kissing him, smelling the new sweet scent that enveloped his skin. His moles and freckles, like stars leading the way to happiness. His shirt, soft and smelling faintly of Simon's sweat. Yesterday. Or when they were back at Watford?

Baz closed his eyes even tighter. The ringing in his ears was echoing so loudly, Baz almost didn’t hear when the door to the flat clicked open.

Baz looked up sharply.

Pure blue eyes wandered wildly, settling on nothing. His hands trembled by his side, pressing the outside of his thighs subconsciously. His bronze skin was pale, deathly pale. And he was soaked in blood. His normally golden brown hair was so drenched in rusty scarlet, Baz couldn’t see its original color and the blood was oozing slowly down the side of his face, covering the left side of his face and neck completely. The collar of his shirt was browning where the blood soaked into it, and the sleeves were ripped up to his elbows. The same shirt he had been wearing yesterday, or longer ago. The skin of his shoulders all the way down to his forearms was ripped open viciously, fresher blood dripping down the soft skin of his wrists and dribbling down to pool at his feet.

Baz’s breath caught in his throat.

”Simon,” Baz whispered. Louder this time. “ _Simon.”_

Simon looked up dizzily, his voice hazy. “Baz?”

Baz stood, moving desperately towards Simon as his balance tipped. 

His arms were still reaching out for Simon when the world exploded.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> 6/17: Edited!   
> If people are interested, I might do a little follow up/second chapter...


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